


baby pick a night (to come out and play)

by poiregourmande



Series: Ryan Bergara, Erotic Masseur [2]
Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series)
Genre: Dom/sub Undertones, F/M, First Dates, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Multi, Polyamory, Sex Worker Ryan Bergara, Sub Sara Rubin, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-31
Updated: 2019-08-31
Packaged: 2020-10-04 00:42:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,230
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20462222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/poiregourmande/pseuds/poiregourmande
Summary: That night, Sara finds herself digging through a rabbit hole of poly web pages, building a google doc with links to definitions, advice, testimonials, so she can share them with Shane later. And possibly with Ryan.She’s never even met the guy and yet, there’s something about him that makes her want to open her home to him. Her marriage. (Her bed, but that’s a given.)





	baby pick a night (to come out and play)

It’s not totally selfless. 

Sure, Sara’s heart aches at the thought of her husband, home alone, going slightly mad with lack of touch. A few hundred bucks is a small price to pay to make him feel better, to help him go through a few more weeks alone. 

The selfish part comes in when Sara clears her schedule the afternoon of the massage, to go back to her hotel bed and imagine it. 

She chose Ryan from his picture on the website — a perfect blend of Sara’s and Shane’s types — and his bio, which was clever and hilarious and cutesy enough to make Sara’s heart swell. 

From then on, it’s easy enough to imagine Shane on the massage table, Ryan’s hands on him, pulling all of Sara’s favorite moans from him. 

Her hand slips past her waistband, and she lets her fingers and fantasies work together to bring her over the edge one, two, three times. She might not be touched-starved like Shane, but it has been a while since she got laid, so forgive her for indulging. 

After the third time, she takes a nap — she figures she’s got a bit of time before Shane calls her back to say how it went, and she’s gonna need all her energy back for round four. 

She’s stretching awake, like a cat in the late afternoon sun, when the video call comes. 

“Hey baby,” she answers sleepily. “How was it?”

Shane doesn’t bother with any kind of greeting. “Can I invite Ryan home?”

“Ooh... You wanna pay for a lil extra?” She winks. 

Shane swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. “No. He offered — he asked if we could see each other again. For free.”

“Oh he did, did he?” Sara grins. 

“Said he wanted to help me out, until you come back.”

“What did you tell him?”

“That I had to talk to you. And, um. That you’d probably enjoy meeting him.”

“Good boy,” Sara coos. “Yeah, invite him over, have fun. Oh, and Shane? Snap a few pics, if he’s okay with that.”

“You’re the best,” Shane says, visibly relieved. 

“You’re welcome.”

***

Shane doesn’t skimp on the pictures. From saucy pics of him or Ryan naked in bed, to truly pornographic snapshots of Shane sucking Ryan’s dick, or riding him, Sara’s received enough wank material over the next weeks to last her a few decades. They even send her a video of Shane pounding Ryan into the mattress that brings her to at least three orgasms. 

It’s gotten to a point where Sara wonders whether they’re spending every non-working hour together. She finds that she doesn’t mind, although she’s dying to meet Ryan. She can see he makes Shane happy — and not just because of the sex. 

There’s that pic Ryan sends her, of Shane and Obi napping in a patch of sunlight on the couch, like she’s seen hundreds of times before. 

There’s that one Shane sends of Ryan making a mess of their kitchen, followed by one of a lopsided pile of pancakes and Ryan’s proud grin. 

There’s the good morning texts they’ve taken to exchange every day on their group chat. 

(There’s the fact that they have a threeway group chat.)

There’s the list of cutesy nicknames Ryan’s given Obi, compiled by Shane. 

Now, Sara and Shane have discussed polyamory before, in a casual ‘is this something you’d be into?’ way, but they never did anything about it — never really found someone they were into enough to do something about it. 

That night, Sara finds herself digging through a rabbit hole of poly web pages, building a google doc with links to definitions, advice, testimonials, so she can share them with Shane later. And possibly with Ryan. 

She’s never even met the guy and yet, there’s something about him that makes her want to open her home to him. Her marriage. (Her bed, but that’s a given.)

***

The week when Sara comes back is the longest Shane and Ryan have spent away from each other since they met. 

Shane and Sara spend a whole week reconnecting, unable to keep their hands off each other. They screw on every flat surface of the house — and some not-so-flat ones. Sara’s got the bruises to show for it. 

They don’t ignore Ryan for a week straight, of course. It’s his turn to get saucy pics, and there’s even that one time when Shane ate Sara out while she facetimed Ryan that was a very good time for everyone involved. (Except Obi, who spent the whole time wailing outside the room because how dare they keep a door closed?)

“So,” Sara says, after orgasm number four of day six. “We should invite Ryan over for dinner.”

Shane agrees so much that it doesn’t happen until after orgasm number five, which Sara would be hard pressed to complain about. (She was also hard pressed under him, so.)

***

Dinner is a rushed but sweet affair. They all make an effort to look cute and fancy, the boys in nice button-downs and slacks, Sara in a dress she never had the occasion to wear (score!). After three years of marriage, it’s fun for Shane and Sara to get ready for a first date again. 

It could be weird, Ryan and Sara meeting for the first time. They’ve seen each other naked and in various compromising positions, they’ve exchanged fantasies, but don’t altogether know each other. 

It’s not, though. 

Ryan is an absolute sweetheart, and his line of work probably taught him a lot about sex-related awkwardness. His confidence rubs off on Sara who manages to kiss him hello on both cheeks without making a fool of herself. His hands rest on her waist in a smooth, gentlemanly way that would make her swoon even without the existing tension between them. 

“Hello, Sara,” he says in a rich, deep voice that the speaker on her phone could never do justice to. 

Sara lets out a childish giggle, paired with an uncharacteristic flutter of eyelashes — she’s never before felt like the heroine of a romance novel and it’s a dizzying feeling. 

Shane, thankfully, steps in to kiss Ryan hello, giving Sara time to compose herself. 

She slips back into the kitchen, takes deep breaths while pouring some wine, so that by the time the boys join her, she looks every bit the good hostess her chic dress suggests she should be, and not like she’s about to faint thinking of her husband getting it on with another man. 

Ryan’s fingers brush hers as she hands him a glass of wine, and he keeps her there with him. 

“It’s okay to be nervous, y’know,” he says gently. “So am I.”

Sara scoffs. “What have you got to be nervous about? You — you’re dashing!”

Ryan smiles indulgently. “Thank you. But it’s not every day you meet the wife of the man you’re head over heels mad about.”

“Oh.” Sara, taken aback, forgets to hand Shane his wine and instead drinks from both glasses in turn to settle her nerves. 

Ryan sets his glass on the counter, quickly followed by the ones Sara’s holding. He pulls her in a genuine, friendly hug. “Here. I like you already, whatever happens, happens.”

Sara smiles. “I see why Shane likes you.”

“You mean besides his magical hands and biteable booty?” Shane asks, pulling the lasagna out of the oven. 

Ryan rolls his eyes fondly. “I knew you only wanted me for my body.”

“I mean, we’re only keeping you around because Obi got attached to you,” Shane teases. “He’ll have a fit if we kick you out.

Proving his point, Obi jumps off the counter to rub his head against Ryan’s legs. “Who’s the best little wingman in the world?” Ryan coos. “Yes it’s you! Yes it’s you!”

Sara looks like she might burst from fondness. “Okay, we’re keeping him,” she says. 

Ryan flashes a grin. “You won’t be disappointed, ma’am!”

“Easy on the ma’am, boy. I may be a married woman but I’m still wild.”

They eat dinner quickly, eager to get to the next step. The wine helps — easing conversations, putting a flush on Ryan’s cheeks that Sara would very much like to kiss off. 

“You’ll forgive us if we skip dessert, won’t you?” Shane grins as he brings the empty plates back to the kitchen. 

Ryan laughs. “I thought you were dessert?”

“Ooh, I like how you think,” Sara says. 

Shane comes back to press a kiss on Ryan’s cheek. “Okay, you got me there.”

“C’m’on,” Sara says, standing up. “I wanna see what the fuss is all about.”

“The fuss?” Ryan asks coyly. “You fussed about me?”

Shane blushes. “I might have used the words ‘crazy about him?’”

“I believe you also said,” Sara quips, “‘if I could only eat one thing for the rest of my life, it would be Ryan’s ass.’”

“Aww,” Ryan coos. “That’s so sweet.”

Shane shakes his head, faux-offended. “Mock away. I’ll be in the bedroom whenever you decide to stop laughing at me.”

Sara waves him away, eyes on Ryan. “That’s fine, babe, Ryan and I can have some fun of our own, can’t we?”

Shane gasps. “You wouldn’t!”

Sara flashes a bright grin at him. “That’s what you’ve done while I was away, isn’t it?”

Ryan beams. “Oh, she’s good.”

Shane smiles slyly, like he just figured out how to turn things around. “Yeah. Why don’t you kiss her, see how good she is?”

Ryan looks at Sara to make sure, like at this point there’s any doubt left that she’s in, a hundred percent. It’s sweet. But Sara doesn’t let him ask, she climbs into his lap and presses their lips together, slips him a bit of tongue, knowing Shane is watching. 

Shane is watching with bated breath, incredulous even though it’s what they wanted to happen. She knows without looking at him. She knows by the catch of his breath in the back of his throat. The muffled  _ hmmf  _ slipping through his lips when she deepens the kiss. The sound of his socked feet shuffling across the tile, and suddenly he’s stalking down the corridor to their bedroom. 

“Bed. Please,” he says, and the words are commanding, but the tone is desperate. 

“Look how needy he is,” Sara giggles against Ryan’s cheek. “I love that for us.”

Ryan doesn’t answer — he wraps his arms strong around her and stands up, her legs tightening around his waist as a yelp escapes her lips. If Shane asks, Ryan does. A thrill of possibilities runs up Sara’s spine at the thought. 

Ryan lays her out on the bed next to Shane, perhaps gentler than she would have hoped — she likes to be tossed around, grabbed and bitten, her small size taken advantage of — but the night is still young. 

He kneels next to her and his gaze falls to Shane’s nightstand, hosting a framed photograph of Shane kissing a giggly Sara on the cheek at their wedding. 

“Oh,” Shane says, following his gaze. “Is this weird?” He reaches for the picture to, what? Flip it down? Hide it? Pretend they’re not married?

But Ryan catches his arm. “It’s not weird. It’s just a gorgeous picture, is all. I like that you two are married, it’s… like, you two make each other so happy, and the fact that you want me to see the parts people don’t get to see, the intimacy, and join in… it means so much.”

Shane kisses the top of his head. “I guess I’m just scared that you’ll end up feeling like… like a third-wheel?”

“Please,” Sara says, “if anyone’s third-wheeling tonight, it’s you, because dibs!” She pulls Ryan closer to kiss him. 

Ryan indulges her for a moment, eyes crinkling in amusement, before breaking the kiss. “I promise I’ll say something if I start feeling left out, or if we’re not on the same page.”

Shane nods and squeezes Ryan’s hand. “That would be good, thanks. But for now, can you please fuck my wife before she implodes?”

Ryan’s smile turns dangerous grin, and Sara moans, untouched. 

“You like this?” Ryan asks darkly. “When he calls you his wife as he’s lending you out?”

Another moan. 

Sara’s still fully dressed, but she’s already so wet there’s a strong chance she might drip through her clothes, through the bedsheets. Somehow it doesn’t seem so bad — she hopes Ryan notices. She wants him to call her out on it, to tease her about how needy she is. 

His biceps are bulging out the sleeves of his button-down and she almost drools at the thought of his strength. He could take whatever he wants from her — and she would beg for more. 

Her breathing is shallow, coming out in soft whimpers — there’s not enough air in the world to deal with how Ryan makes her feel.

Shane knows. He knows her and he’s been where she is, breathless under Ryan, so he reaches out and squeezes her hand. 

“We got you, baby,” he says, almost as breathless as her. He likes watching. 

“Ryan,” she whines. “Please…”

“What should I do to her?” he asks Shane. 

That. That is disloyal and mean, and just about the hottest thing Ryan could have done right now. Using Shane against her. Acting like she’s not there, like she doesn’t have a say in this. 

And Shane, of course, the asshole, takes his sweet time answering. He starts by kissing Ryan, a dark, filthy thing, moaning against his lips in a way that makes it clear he’s very aware he’s torturing her. 

And then he just looks at her. Considering, evaluating. All frowny, humming and hawing. 

“Why don’t you touch her?” he says finally. 

Ryan seizes the hem of Sara’s dress. 

“No, no,” Shane stops him. “Not just yet. I bet she’s soaked through, why don’t you check?”

Ryan flashes a fierce grin at Sara. “What do you think? Is he right?”

She squeezes her thighs together, but he grazes a hand up her leg, a barely-there, feather touch, and her legs fall open at once. 

Slowly, too slowly, he reaches his goal, dress riding up her thighs, and cups her through her lacy underwear. He rubs her a bit, thumbs at her clit, like he’s trying to really make sure, even though they can literally  _ hear _ how wet she is. 

“Drenched,” he tells Shane, delighted. 

“Well, then,” Shane says smugly. “What are you waiting for?”

“Permission, big guy. She’s  _ your _ wife.”

Shane kisses him again, desperate and dirtier than any porn. Hurriedly, he undoes the first buttons of Ryan’s shirt, enough to pull it off over his head. 

“Go ahead,” he says at last, when Sara’s about to burst because  _ oh, hello Ryan’s pecs and nips _ . “Make her forget my name.”

God, this is too much. This torture needs to come to an end. Sara grinds down on Ryan’s hand, seeking her own pleasure, but it’s gone too soon. Ryan takes his hand away to finish undressing and put on a condom, and Sara is left to squirm against nothing. 

It does occur to her that she could touch herself, but somehow she wants to save it for Ryan, so he can do whatever he wants with her. 

Shane strips down too, and soon, Sara’s the only one still fully dressed, although her dress is rumpled and her panties are soaked. 

Ryan doesn’t seem to care. He spreads her legs apart, bunches up her dress and pushes her undies to the side. 

“Ready?”

Sara nods so eagerly she could sprain her neck, a few seconds away from begging. 

Ryan pushes in, rock hard and scalding hot, tossing her legs upon his shoulders to make the angle better for her. Sara can’t help crying out in pleasure when he bottoms out. 

“C’m’on, give it to me, harder, faster,” she pleads, even though he’s only just getting started. 

Ryan pulls the strap of her dress down her shoulder to suck a bruise above her breast. 

“Marking my woman?” Shane asks, his voice dark and rough. 

Ryan hums against her spit-slick skin. “She needs to learn patience.”

“Ha!” Shane chuckles. “Good luck with that.”

“Then why don’t you keep her busy, hm?”

With a saucy smile, Shane comes closer, about to kiss her, but Sara props herself up on her elbows to take his cock in her mouth. 

Ryan’s voice sounds strangled when he goes, “oh, she’s a good girl, isn’t she?” and Shane kisses him like he’s drowning. 

And then, finally,  _ finally _ , they’re fucking her. 

Every thrust of Ryan’s hips sends Sara deeper in Shane’s cock. Shane’s fingers in her curls keep her exactly where he needs her — and he tugs at them once in a while when he thinks she’s not whimpering enough. 

The boys may be naked, but she’s the one who looks slutty and pathetic — her dress barely just clinging to her waist, breasts out, skirt bunched up around her middle — they didn’t even take the time to undress her, just taking what they want from her. 

This isn’t how she’d imagined it. In all her fantasies of that night, she pictured her and Ryan, taking care of Shane, making him their good boy, or her and Shane, worshipping every inch of Ryan’s body. 

She didn’t think she’d be in the middle, teased and used and filled to the brim. 

_ Owned.  _

She cannot get enough. 

Ryan presses a hand on her pelvis, making every thrust that much more intense. His thumb rubs at her clit and she knows he’s getting close, by the stutter of his hips, and that he wants to bring her there with him. 

Before long, Ryan buries himself in the deepest part of her and spills, beads of sweat running down his neck. Sara follows, pulling off Shane’s dick because she needs to cry out, her entire body quaking. 

She’s still coming as Shane pulls her in his lap like she weighs nothing more than a rag doll, and slams her down on his cock. He doesn’t need much before he’s filling her, giving her all he’s got. Sara sobs, her unrelenting orgasm draining her of all strength. 

“Please,” she whimpers, “please…”

“You wanna go again?” Ryan asks, wolflike in her ear. 

“No more… no more.”

“Okay, baby,” Shane murmurs, petting her hair. “Okay.”

It takes Sara a while — a bottle of water that Shane helps her drink, a quick wipe with a washcloth, and a power nap curled up against Ryan that she swears didn’t happen (“I’m awake, I am!”) but the fog clears out of her brain enough for her to speak. 

“You set a precedent, here, boys,” she says, her voice hoarse from sucking Shane. 

“Did we?” Shane asks innocently. 

“I mean, you can’t just rock my world like this and expect it to be a one-time thing. Ryan, please say you’ll be our boyfriend.”

Ryan beams like the actual ray of sunshine he is. “Um, well, if you’ll have me.”

Shane smooches his cheek. “Are you kidding, this is the only thing I want.”

Ryan goes all soft and sweet and kisses them both, cheeks and noses and lips, and Sara could get used to this.

“House rules,” she says mischievously. “Boyfriends draw me baths.”

“You got it!” Ryan jumps to his feet and salutes. 

Shane calls after him, unsubtly checking out his ass as he walks away. “And don’t forget the candles!”

  
  
  



End file.
